


a night at sea

by shudder



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe, Dubious Consent, F/M, I mean sort of, POV Second Person, Pegging, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sea Monster!Meenah, Tentacles, human!Karkat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2020-08-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:26:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25778893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shudder/pseuds/shudder
Summary: You never believed in fairytales, and definitely not in mermaids, but if you did, that’s what you’d call her.
Relationships: Meenah Peixes/Karkat Vantas
Comments: 6
Kudos: 16





	a night at sea

**Author's Note:**

> this was originally meant to be a single scene of just porn, and it grew from there but still didn't develop a plot. feedback welcome!

You hate being at sea. It’s not “spiritually fulfilling” or whatever your father said, and it definitely isn’t “a wonderful opportunity to do some self-searching and unlearn the problematic ideologies inherent in the media you consume” as Kankri put it. Frankly, it’s damp and tiring. The salty air makes you feel like a sardine, and you can never seem to get enough rest. If the captain decided right now to turn around and go back to shore, you’d give him a kiss on his ugly bearded mouth.

Not that your opinion matters much.

Your father offered you two choices this year: this “summer at sea” program he only offered because he knew you’d hate it, and the weird “holistic lifestyle workshop” he decided to teach. You chose the sea because you knew that the workshop was what he was trying to push you toward. Misery either way, but at least old Signless doesn’t get the satisfaction of you choosing his religion. Fuck that guy and his bullshit spirituality. It’s all rocks and mumbo-jumbo about his “ancient Greek ancestors.” No one takes him seriously except for Kankri, who doesn’t even believe in any of that bullshit, for the record. He just thinks he’s better than everyone else for pretending to.

You really hate your family.

That’s why you’re spending the next five weeks on an old-timey sailboat that you’re certain should have been decommissioned a hundred years ago. You and the entire “crew” of teenage boys with you, are stuck in your cabins due to a raging storm outside. Ironically, the only downtime you get from your duties is when the ship is at risk of sinking and probably needs your help the most. One of the guys asked why once, and was told it had something to do with liability. They want to keep their asses safe from the risk of one of you actually dying.

The waves crashing against your porthole are nothing new. It’s been storming off and on the past few weeks, and each time it does, you’re all shuffled into your quarters. It’s vaguely wet like everything else on board, and the smell of the sea mixed with the body odor of twenty other teenage boys makes you want to gag. You’ve been staring out the porthole next to your bunk to keep your mind off the bullshit situation you’ve found yourself in.

The ocean is an angry blue, and the fish usually carousing around are nowhere to be seen. So, you’re just staring at water. Still better than whatever’s going on behind your back, if the shouting and laughter are any indication. You can’t stand any of these assholes. You’re staring pretty intently at a whole lot of nothing, which is why you notice when something briefly disturbs the landscape. Well, seascape.

The tiny bit of movement goes unnoticed by your crewmates. This is probably for the better, if you want any chance at seeing it again. Your smaller frame tends to get pushed to the side when the burlier boys are trying to ogle at anything, especially out these tiny portholes. You shift your view in the direction you noticed the movement, and keep watching. It takes a moment, but right as you’re about to give up on catching whatever it was that dared to be near the surface at such choppy waters, you see it again.

It’s a she. Sort of, at least. You never believed in fairytales, and definitely not in mermaids, but if you did, that’s what you’d call her. That wouldn’t even be the proper term, you think as you watch her swim about. She definitely seems to be half-human, with two long black braids and bright pink eyes, even with her scaly grey skin. However, the bottom half of her body isn’t a tail, but more like an entire octopus, black tentacles flailing every which way as she moves around.

No, you’re seeing things. You must be. Women with scales and gills and _ tentacles, _ for christ’s sake, don’t exist. That’s just a story they tell little kids who want to be special, or super horny pirates who want something to jack off to. Not for sophisticated people with refined tastes like you. There’s not a mermaid outside your porthole, and if you look away, she’ll be gone by the time you look back.

Regardless of whether you believe in silly stories for children, there’s still a ridiculous mermaid-creature when you turn your attention back. She’s biting into a raw fish, and your stomach turns. Jesus, that’s disgusting. She shakes her head a bit as she bites, and looks up ever so slightly.

Your eyes meet through the glass. She bares her pointed teeth in what looks to be a smile.

You have to stifle your gasp a bit. You hadn’t realized until now that if you could see her she could see you, all pushed against the glass, and the fact that you hadn’t makes you smack your face. Of course she was going to look at you if you kept staring at her like a slackjawed monkey. Now that she has noticed you, she doesn’t look away.

She sticks the half-eaten fish in what you can only assume is some sort of pocket she’s wearing around her waist, and swims up to you. “Swim” might be too generous a word, it’s more like “propulsion by way of tentacle flailing,” but you aren’t about to start insulting the deadly octopus-lady. Not even in your head; her species might be telepathic. God, you’re such an idiot, all of a sudden buying into all that bullshit about mermaids luring sailors to their deaths. She’s probably not even cognizant on the level of a human. If mermaids were, they’d have made themselves known to humanity and formed an alliance by now. She probably just-

You’re pulled from your thoughts on sentience from a tap at the glass. She’s face-to-face with you now, and smiling that pointy and slightly unnerving grin. Now that you can see her better, you’re taken aback by the texture of her skin - it’s not skin as much as it is scales. It makes sense, of course, but that doesn’t stop a chill from running down your spine. She’s striking, like no one you’ve ever seen before.

You’ve never been in this much awe in your life. She’s perfect, yet somehow still a sea monster of some sort. But she definitely seems sentient - she’s making faces at you now like Kankri did when you were a baby. It has the effect of making you feel like a baby, and so like a baby, you make faces back. You’ve stopped caring about the other boys in the cabin at this point; if they haven’t noticed the weird fish lady yet, they aren’t going to.

After making faces at you for a few moments, she disappears into the depths as quickly as she had appeared. You keep watching, hoping she’s playing some sort of underwater hide-and-seek, but after ten minutes of staring, you give up and flop back onto your bunk. Not for the first time, a string of fucks and shits fly out of your mouth as you try and find a comfortable position while being rocked back and forth. Why couldn’t they have just made you all sleep in hammocks? At least that way you wouldn’t be worried about being thrown out of your bed every two minutes.

Ugh. This ship is the worst. You can’t even hold onto the fact that “at least I discovered a previously-unknown and possibly sentient species” because you have no way to prove it. Everyone will think you’re as crazy as Cronus and his magic unless you can show them. All you can do is hope you see her again, you guess.

\---

Dinner is late tonight. Once the storm subsides enough for the Captain to let you go to the mess deck, you trudge your way there, crushed between a horde of hungry teens. Usually you wait until the last of them trickle out before going, the food gets cold but you don’t have to worry about suffocating to death in the tiny hallways. Unfortunately, that didn’t even cross your mind this time, your thoughts having been so preoccupied with the braided mermaid. Your stomach grumbles as you sit down with your meal, and its the first time you realize how starving you actually are.

This is some good grub, and you eat it fast. No one tries to make much conversation with you, and that’s probably for the best. You are not in the right state of mind to have an asinine conversation about the “crazy storms we’ve been having” with some idiot who’s here because he dropped out of high school and needs to make up credits. The people on this ship are almost as bad as the work you have to do. It’s not like you’re admitting to defeat, but sometimes you wish you were doing new-age rock meditations at a retreat instead of this.

Even if you had to sit through your dad’s sermons while there.

The thought of spending months under constant spiritual supervision by your dad and Kankri reminds you of why you chose the ship and the sea in the first place. Your resolve has come back, even if it’s only out of spite. Actually, you tend to do things best when there’s spite involved, though Kankri is better at pretending it isn’t spiteful, in his fucked up holier-than-thou way.

After you scarf down your dinner, a couple of the guys drag you to chart the stars with them. They grab an actual honest-to-god sextant and begin…whatever it is you use a sextant for. You’re not quite sure, but the dude with the lisp seems pretty into it. Something gives you the feeling that he isn’t used to being away from a linux computer for this long. For any period of time, really, by the looks of it.

Regardless, watching two dudes with speech impediments fight over sailing equipment older than all of your ages combined is not the most entertaining use of your time. Your mind starts to wander, and then out of the corner of your eye, you see movement in the sea.

You don’t dare get your hopes up, and to prove to yourself that you aren’t hopeful, you very calmly and casually turn your head. It’s all normal, you’re just getting a glance at the water.

And she’s there. Her head is just above the waves, but when shes you looking at her, she smiles that toothy smile and waves. You walk over to the edge of the ship, and she swims to meet you. She’s about fifteen fit below you, but you can hear her greet you just as if it were broadcast directly into your head. It’s a little creepy. It’s actually really creepy.

“You’re the ones leavin’ all your glubbin’ plastic down here, creep. Lea-fin? Wait, not the point.” This time when she bares her teeth, it’s actually terrifying. At least it’s nice to know that she was actually smiling at you the other times, though.

“So, uh, you’re a mermaid?” You feel so dumb. You  _ are _ so dumb. You meet intelligent life that has never been documented before, and all you can say is “creepy” and “you’re a mermaid”? What an absolute idiot.

“Don’t beat ya’ shellf up, bouy. Relax. Shore, I’m a mermaid. Whateva’ that means to ya’.” she says, a glimmer in her eye. “You’re the first landdweller I’ve talked to in ages. You must have somefin aboat the shore you can tail me!”

You shrug. It’s not like your life shoreside is interesting. “Everyone I know is a fuckass idiot. Nothing exciting happens in my life.”

She smiles, this time menacingly. She doesn’t reply, however, and instead you watch as she starts climbing the side of the boat with her tentacles. It makes you want to rip the skin off your body; her torso stays parallel with the hull the entire time as she slowly and deliberately makes her way over to you, her lower body a mass of writhing tentacles. You’re not sure how many she has, but it’s definitely more than eight. The suckers make a pop noise every time she moves them. It’s all eerie and exciting and terrifying and amazing at once.

Then, you’re face to face.

You glance over your shoulder, making sure those arguing nerds aren’t paying any attention, but to your surprise, they’re making out. At this point you aren’t worried about them seeing you, they seem pretty occupied. Regardless, you motion her towards a spot that’s out of the way of any peering eyes, and she follows.

“Your life ain’t exciting, huh? Let’s change that, then.” She walks toward you, her body seeming to grow in size until she’s towering over you. You shrink backward, but only bump into the railing of the stern. There’s no place for you to go.

“Change it how?” you somehow stutter out.

She just smiles and reaches a hand out. Her skin is cool and scaly, but not unpleasant to the touch. You lean into it despite yourself, and she tilts your head up. She says, “It’s been so long since I had a bouy like you.” Then she kisses you, deeply.

It’s soft, and her tongue is oddly smooth. You start to kiss back, fuck it’s been so long since anyone touched you like this, but then you come to your senses and pull away. “What the fuck, no. We aren’t even the same species,” you say, swatting her hand away. “I don’t even know your name!”

She licks her lips, then drags her tongue across her teeth. “Th’ name’s Meenah. And you?”

“Karkat,” you reply meekly. Somehow you can’t keep yourself from doing what this woman wants, and wanting it yourself. She’s alluring. Ha, luring, she’d probably enjoy that, she’s tried to fit a fish word into every sentence since you’ve been speaking.

“I do.”

Right. She can read all your thoughts. Once again, creepy.

“Carpkat. Stop bein’ so oar-ful and just give in. I can sea how much you want to. I’m betta then any you’ve eva’ had, can tell you that much.” The glimmer in her eye tells you that she knows you’ll say yes. Of course you’re going to say yes, despite yourself. No one can say no to a hot fish lady with bare breasts. You make a note to ask why she has those later.

For now, you bring up a hand to touch one, slightly scared at first. She leans back in to kiss you again, hard. Your mouths meet, and you’re starving for it this time. You’re squeezing her tit, and she’s using a tentacle to hold your other hand against the wall. Her hands are grasping your hair, pulling it up towards her face while you kiss.

A third tentacle comes around to lift the bottom of your shirt, sliding up your body. It’s surprisingly soft as one of the suckers attaches to your nipple; you whine into Meenah’s mouth, and she bites your lip in response. Her tooth digs into your skin and you whine harder, it’s starting to hurt.

She pulls away, and stares into your eyes. It feels heavy, dark. Sinister.

Still making eye-contact, you feel her hands start to unbutton your pants. Your hips lift toward her just a bit, and you let out a whine as the cool sea air hits your cock.

“You like that, don’t you?” she whispers into your ear. Her hand starts stroking your cock, and another of her seemingly infinite tentacles rips your hand off her breast and pins it against the wall, too. You’re fully pinned now, powerless in her grasp. You try to wrest your arms free, but it’s no use, she’s rubbing your shaft, your leaking pre all over her fingers.

“Fuck, that’s-” you start to say, but a stray tentacle forces its way into your mouth before you can finish. It tastes strange: slimy and cool and salty all at once. You run your tongue along the suckers, tasting each one. Slowly, the limb in your mouth starts thrusting in and out. It picks up pace, back and forth until you can’t think about anything else.

Meenah’s hands are rubbing your cock as fast as they can go, and fuck it’s so hard to keep standing, you’re crumpling under the pleasure, your knees giving out just to be picked back up by yet another set of tentacles. She leans in close, whispers something you can’t quite make out, and then bites your shoulder. Her teeth pierce your flesh, you can feel yourself bleeding, it hurts. You don’t try to stop her, you just whimper, wiggling your hips uselessly into her hands.

Suddenly, you feel something prod at your hole, a light teasing touch, and you scream. You need this so bad, every bone in your body is aching for her touch, you want to come from her touch, you’re so close. The limb poking at you slowly enters, slimy and cool and everything your body needed, it fucks you fast, not giving your body any time to adjust to the fullness. You’re bleeding, leaking, drooling, sobbing, completely undone by the mermaid in front of you, you need release, you’re begging for it between choked sobs.

Finally, you orgasm, bright lights shooting through your body. You feel the tentacles being removed from your holes, and she lets go of you altogether. Your body falls limp, crumples on the deck of the ship.

“That good, huh?” she asks, smirking.

You stretch your limbs out and pull your pants back up, after catching your breath. “Well, uh. Yeah.” You shrug. “But what about you? Do I need to-”

“Nah, I got plenty o’ hoes back home, I jus’ like to play with landbouys every so often. Y’all squirm,” she says, the glint back in her eye.

“Oh. I guess you gotta get going, then?” you ask, a slight falter in your voice. That was amazing, and unexpected, but you still want to know more about her. About her culture.

She shrugs. “Yeah. But I assume you’ll be around?” she asks, vaguely gesturing at the ship.

“I’ll be around.” You shrug back. What else can you do?

She flashes that toothy grin at you once again, and hops overboard. For a second, your heart stops, before you remember that she’s literally a sea creature.

And then you’re alone.

That night, in your bed, you dream of monsters and faeries and magic.


End file.
